2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

CAROLINA HERRERA

Nora

P resent day…

My phone vibrated in my hand with a text.

I didn’t look at it, at first.

I was in a state.

It had been two weeks since Jamie and my kiss.

Two weeks during which I hadn’t seen him. Two weeks where I hadn’t heard from him. Two very long, very alarming, very terrifying weeks.

Granted, I hadn’t reached out to him.

I also hadn’t walked out on him telling him to “grow up” and saying that kiss we shared—which was not “just a kiss”—was just a kiss .

We had not been apart for that long since three months ago, when he’d had to go on a multi-leg business trip.

And even then, shortly after week two began, he’d texted and asked if I wanted to fly to Florence to join him for the weekend before he had to head to South Korea for more meetings.

I’d flown to Florence.

The shopping was excellent there.

But that wasn’t why I’d boarded a plane.

Before that, well…

It had been years.

Now, Chloe had gotten a wild hair that, before she and Judge had their first baby, and before Alex and Rix got married, which, according to Chloe, heralded the Baby Making Years where we wouldn’t be able to do this kind of thing, we all needed to go on a family vacation.

She’d said, “Before you know it, Sasha, Sully, Gage…even Cadence will be hitched or shacked up, and it’ll be decades before we can do something like this again.”

This was entirely untrue. I’d taken many a vacation with my children when they were younger, including doing it with friends when they’d had children.

But Mika and I had discussed this with Genny, and we thought perhaps Chloe was feeling a little panicked about their new arrival, so against my better judgment, I’d agreed to go.

I loved Chloe (who happened to be Jamie’s daughter-in-law, married to Jamie’s son, Judge).

I loved Mika (naturally, as she was my best friend), her husband Tom (Chloe’s father, Genny’s ex-husband), and I loved Mika’s darling daughter Cadence.

And with Tom came everyone else, all of whom I loved.

Including Jamie.

God, why had I agreed to this again?

I wasn’t even a blood or by-marriage member of their family, for goodness sakes!

It was the wrong time to ask that question. I was in the car with three bags packed to the gills in the trunk (yes, we were to be gone only a week, no, I did not think for a second that I’d overpacked), and there was a yacht waiting to whisk us on a family Caribbean cruise.

To be able to escape thinking about the disaster that awaited me with Jamie being on that damned boat, I looked to my phone.

When I saw what was on the screen, I frowned.

Roland.

He’d been bothering me for forever .

What he thought we had to speak about, since our children were all grown and had moved on to lives of their own, I did not know .

(By the way, my children and their partners had been invited on this trip. But, in the time allowed, Allegra and Darryn couldn’t make arrangements to adjust their schedules at the hospital, Nico and Felice were in Vermont teaching summer courses, and they couldn’t make it, and Valentina and Archie were sadly in Allegra and Darryn’s boat and hadn’t had enough notice to arrange time off for a vacation.)

But I’d lost track in the last couple of years of how many times Roland had approached me at events, sent texts, made calls and left voicemails, practically begging me to meet him for dinner, which, when that came to naught, turned to drinks, which became requests for lunch, and I knew how desperate he was getting when he asked me out for coffee.

Yes, I drank coffee.

Yes, I’d meet friends for coffee (though, when I did that, mostly what we consumed was tea, and not the liquid kind).

But I didn’t sit down for coffee with my ex-husband.

Roland, I’d painfully learned, had not been an inveterate flirt.

He’d been an incurable philanderer, and I knew there was no cure because I’d searched for one.

He, however, hadn’t. Even if he promised on more than one occasion that he would.

As the docks came into view, I was in such a mood, I did what I rarely did anymore.

I read his text.

I know you’re no longer seeing Oakley so CALL ME!

A chill spread across my skin because he knew.

Which meant everyone knew.

Only some of them suspected Jamie and I weren’t actually together together.

But now everyone knew we weren’t in any way together.

I cared very little about what people thought of me. I never had. Mother had taught me that from early on.

Oh, Mother was a stickler for the rules of society.

It was just that…she made them.

It was easy to follow the rules if you were the one who wrote them.

Why I cared that anyone knew I’d lost Jamie, I had no idea.

But I cared.

And Roland knowing?

I cared very, very much.

So much, my legendary iron control snapped, and I jabbed at my phone until I heard it ringing.

I put it to my ear.

“Good God, it’s harder than fuck to get in touch with you,” Roland snarled by way of greeting.

“Well, warmest regards to you as well, my not-so-dearest, but thankfully only ex,” I drawled.

His tone changed to cajoling. “Nora?—”

Oh no, we weren’t doing this.

“Stop contacting me,” I bit. “I cannot begin to imagine how you haven’t received the signal I’ve been sending loud and clear but allow me to make it even clearer. I. Do. Not. Want. Any . Contact. With. You.”

“I’m in love with you, desperately, I have been since the moment I saw you, and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life wasn’t losing you, it was hurting you.”

I sat perfectly still in the back of a luxurious town car, seeing, without really seeing, the massive yacht Chloe had hired for our adventure (but of course it was massive, and openly opulent, so very Chloe—Lord, I loved that girl) looming larger and larger as we approached.

I did this while hearing my ex-husband’s words rattling around in my brain.

The only reason I snapped out of it was noting Chloe, Cadence, and God save me, Jamie’s daughter Dru hanging over the railing on the deck at the side of the yacht, waving excitedly at my approaching car (well, Chloe wasn’t waving excitedly, that wasn’t Chloe’s way, but I could see she was watching my arrival).

“I can’t do this now,” I said in a small voice.

Roland, not one to miss an opportunity, or miss noting an opportunity was there to be exploited, and I’d regrettably given him both in my moment-of-silence response to his words and following it with a small voice, did not miss the opportunity.

He said quickly, “Listen to me, darling.”

“I really can’t do this now,” I repeated.

“Dinner, tomorrow. Anywhere you like, but I’d prefer you came to mine so we can talk in private. I’ll cook.”

He was a fabulous cook. His Italian grandmother taught him. He didn’t do it often, but I’d always loved every tidbit he’d presented to me.

“I’m leaving on a cruise in about thirty minutes.”

That wasn’t true. I was late, per my protocol (how else could I execute the perfect entrance?). The yacht was set to launch in about ten.

“Then let’s make plans now for when you return.”

“Roland—”

“Please, Nora, allow me the chance to explain.”

My driver swung around to the red carpet that had been laid out to the gangway, and he got out of the car. But he didn’t come to my door as I was on the phone. He went to the trunk to deal with my bags, handing them over to the white-uniformed crew that waited at the edge of the carpet for that purpose.

As this happened, fury roiled in that deep pit I’d buried the lost love and hope of a happily ever after with Roland (or ever having one at all), and for the first time in eons, I allowed it to froth over.

“As you’re of that particular gender, and you’re making this request, then you’re in the position to explain to me, when a man breaks a woman’s heart, how he feels it’s within his right to request her time and attention in explaining why he did such a monstruous thing.”

“Your heart wasn’t the only one that was broken.”

“Yes, but you did the breaking of yours.”

“No, my darling, you did.”

He wasn’t serious.

“Pardon me?” I rapped out.

“As taught to you by your mother, you gave no fucks about me our entire marriage, or at least that’s what you showed to the world, including me.”

In total shock, I stared at the seat back in front of me.

Roland was not in shock, nor was he finished delivering it to me.

“And then, in the midst of us building a family, you fell in love with him . For fuck’s sake, the tail of his acceptable mourning period had barely slipped by before you two were so all over each other, you practically crawled into each other’s skin.”

Unable to make it any louder, my voice was a whisper when I asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Those flowers, Nora, all those years ago. They weren’t about you helping Belinda Oakley through some bout of food poisoning. They were Jamie Oakley staking his claim.”

I continued to whisper when I stated, “You’ve gone mad.”

“I have?” he asked snidely. “Then why, when you filed for divorce, and Oakley was then married to Rosalind, did he still come to my office with a smirk on his face and that odious drawl in his voice, congratulating me for my utter stupidity at letting the best thing that could ever happen to me slip through my fingers?”

My throat closed.

Jamie did that?

I had no idea Jamie did that.

Roland’s tone again changed entirely when he went on, “Nora, please listen to me. I’m being very genuine when I tell you I’ve thought about it. I’ve had years to think about it, and I took that time. Doing so, I understand now, my darling. I understand why you had to turn to him. I understand the part I played in that. And now that it’s over between you two, we can both attempt to understand our behavior and find our way back to each other.”

“Jamie is on the yacht I should be boarding as we speak.”

This statement was greeted with Roland’s silence.

“As I said earlier,” I continued, “I can’t talk about this now.”

“Are you two reconciling?” he asked.

“That’s really none of your business,” I answered.

“Paloma said?—”

A whooshing in my head drowned out whatever he said next, and he was still speaking when, with acid dripping from my words, I queried, “You’re speaking to Paloma Friedrichsen about me?”

“No, the woman is a viper. We both learned that the hard way.”

Oh, we certainly did.

“ She approached me about you ,” he concluded.

I had a dawning understanding of what was going on with my ex-husband, precisely when it all started, and why, considering my arch-nemesis Paloma Friedrichsen was involved.

And, honestly, I couldn’t fathom how my ex-husband could say her name in my ear when she was one of the women he’d cheated on me with.

But as I saw Cadence make her way down the footbridge, a confused and borderline concerned look on her face, my repeated words to Roland came inescapably true.

I couldn’t do this now.

“I have to go,” I declared.

“Can we speak when you return?” Roland pushed.

Cadence was getting closer.

“Perhaps,” I muttered distractedly. “Goodbye, Roland.”

“Until we?—”

I heard no more, I disconnected.

The instant I reached for my bag to drop my phone inside, the driver opened my door.

I stepped out, pasting a brilliant smile on my face.

“My dearest!” I cried, throwing out my arms. “The fun can officially begin. Mother is here!”

The confusion and concern swept from my beloved girl’s beautiful features, and she returned my smile.

“I love your dress,” she said as she finished her trek to me.

“Of course you do,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s fabulous.”

It was from Carolina Herrera’s resort collection of several years ago. But it was Herrera, so it was timeless. A muted, flirty, feminine, off-the shoulder, chiffon floral print up top, juxtaposed with an above-the-knee, bold floral print at the bottom. I wore the wide, black with white polka dots belt it had been styled with on the runway. But the dress was a long way from matchy-matchy, so I paired it with strappy, gold, high-heeled sandals.

Cadence and I linked arms and followed the crew member carrying the last of my bags up the ramp.

“Is the gang all here?” I asked.

“Not yet, there are going to be some, um…late arrivals,” Cadence said.

I wasn’t surprised about this, considering it had been thrown together at the last minute, and the sheer number of people made it a scheduling nightmare. Considering who those people were, from Hollywood movie stars to busy billionaires, it was a miracle, the like Chloe Oakley crafted on not a rare occasion, that it had come about at all.

“Is everything all right?” I queried.

“No biggie,” Cadence answered. Then she shot me another big smile. “It’s all going to be great . I can’t wait .”

Her excitement was infectious, and although it didn’t entirely clear away the unease I felt at my conversation with Roland, or the looming vacation that Jamie was to be a part of, it significantly alleviated it.

We made the starboard deck and Dru was there, giving me her usual tight hug, which told me that Jamie had not shared our rift with his daughter (truly, she was his stepdaughter, but that was semantics). Or perhaps he did, and Dru was being Dru. She was a sweet girl, along with smart, and as such, she made up her own mind.

When I turned to Chloe, she looked me top to toe and inquired, “Herrera 2019 resort collection?”

“How are you not of my loins?” I replied.

She smiled a cat’s smile.

This further pressed my question, as did her tiered maxi-dress that both minimized and celebrated her pronounced baby bump.

We embraced.

When we broke, she stated, “Bon voyage champagne in the forward lounge.”

I could use champagne.

“Excellent, are you coming?” My inquiry was aimed at all of them.

But it was Dru who answered, “We’re the welcoming committee.”

“Of course,” I murmured, making my way toward the bow. “I’ll see you when your duties are complete.”

“You will!” Cadence cried, her exuberance still on show.

And since it was, I felt it somewhat odd.

I’d known her since she was a baby. I wasn’t sure she’d ever taken a trip on a private yacht, but she hadn’t lived a sheltered life. She’d traveled. Her mother was an explorer in every way that could be, considering Mika was a celebrated artist, and I’d learned, through Mika, that to be such, you had to thoroughly explore. They had money, quite a bit of it, so that hadn’t narrowed their adventures.

Cadence had always greeted each day with the energy of youth and the enthusiasm of a voyager, so perhaps it wasn’t that odd.

I made the panorama windows of the forward lounge, peeked inside, and I saw two things at once.

The lounge was a sublime mix of pearl-gray velvet, tufted-based, low, gold-marble-topped tables, sumptuous carpeting and a trio of dreamy cream curved couches adorned with gold, gray and cerulean toss pillows. A wide, circular, utterly divine crystal light installation adorned the ceiling above this conflagration of gorgeousness. There was a bar with cerulean velvet bucket seat stools at one side of the back of the space, and a table with four cerulean velvet chairs at the other side.

And Jamie was standing at the port windows, looking out at the city, holding, not a flute of champagne, but an old-fashioned glass filled with what I knew was his preferred bourbon and branch, rocks.

He was wearing a white button down, untucked, and gray-blue casual trousers, and even in such casual wear, he looked resplendent.

However, only Jamie was in there.

Were the others in their cabins?

My first inclination was to return to the girls and request directions to my own cabin in order to do some freshening up I did not need to do.

This changed when Jamie sensed me standing there, and he turned to look at me.

Upon seeing me, his mouth tightened.

So that was how it was going to be.

At witnessing his response, my mind made itself up, and I moved to the opened door to the lounge and sauntered through.

“Jamie,” I greeted frostily.

“Nora,” he returned stonily. His gaze moved over me. “Nice frock.”

That blow was so low, I wanted to throw my charming, woven leather clutch at him.

This was because, when we were what we’d been, he’d tease me relentlessly about my extreme reverence of fashion, intermingling this with my devotion to shopping.

I didn’t reply to his comment.

I noted, “I was told there’s champagne?”

“I’ll pour you a glass,” he murmured, ever the gentleman (damn him), and beginning to turn toward the bar.

“As you know, Jamie, I’m perfectly capable of pouring my own champagne.”

He stopped dead, scowled at me, but inclined his head.

I tossed my bag on one of the couches and moved to the bar, on which was an opened bottle of champagne, chilling in a bucket, curiously with only two flutes sitting beside it.

I was finishing my chore, wondering where in the hell everyone was, when Jamie made his approach.

“We should take this opportunity of being alone to come to some sort of truce for the sake of this holiday,” he stated.

“Rest assured, I’ll act in a civilized manner.”

His face assumed a disbelieving expression before he returned, “Nora, I know you, so I can not rest in that assurance.”

I felt my eyes widen. “I beg your pardon.”

“You’re all about drama.”

He was correct, I was, when drama was appropriate, that being when it was fun or made a point.

He was very in correct when that drama might negatively affect people I loved.

And he damn well knew that.

I took a sip of champagne, regarding him around my flute, fashioning my retort.

When I’d swallowed, I rejoined, “It wasn’t me sulking the last week after this trip was decided instead of extending an olive branch so we could navigate this holiday without issue.”

“I’m sorry, did I miss a phone call? A text?” he asked.

I put my hand lightly to my chest in genuine affront. “You think I should have been the one to make the first overture?”

“I think you aren’t in a position to throw that in my face when you didn’t do what you accuse me of not doing.”

“Because it wasn’t my place,” I shot back.

Blue fire lit in his eyes, but he pulled a sharp breath into his nose to gain control, and he said carefully, “I understand where your hurtful words came from.”

Oh no.

We were not discussing that.

We were absolutely not discussing how I’d revealed how deep my feelings ran for him after that kiss, and he hadn’t missed it.

I didn’t get the chance to inform him of that fact.

He continued, “What I find upsetting is that you don’t seem to understand where I was in that moment.”

My God.

How had I missed he was this self-involved?

I was such a fool. He was a man. It should have been a given.

“Believe me, Jamie, I could not escape where you were at… for decades . Even if I had tried.”

More blue fire before he struggled for control and unsurprisingly (this was Jamie Oakley) succeeded.

“So it’s to be exchanging barbs and avoidance for the next week?” he inquired on a sigh.

With studied nonchalance, I took another sip of champagne before replying, “I’m game if you are.”

He shook his head with disgust. “I can’t even begin to comprehend how I managed to overlook how utterly immature you are, especially since it was right up in my face the entirety of our friendship.”

“Well, we share something in common, considering I managed to overlook how self-absorbed, and I’ll add, entirely clueless you are.”

He got closer and his anger rose palpably nearer to the surface before he growled, “You’re the first woman I kissed after my wife died.”

You’re the only man I truly loved in my entire life, and you managed to overlook that as well, even if it, too, was right up in your face the entirety of our friendship , I did not say.

“This is not news,” I hissed.

“And you have no empathy for where my heart and head were in that moment?”

“There was another person there in that moment, Jamie, and I’ll take this opportunity to remind you that other person was me.”

“So it’s all about you and what you were feeling, and you accuse me of being self-absorbed?” he fired back.

“No, it’s all about the fact you want it to be solely about you when it’s not. When we were both there, feeling deeply.”

“You mean something to me, Nora, so when you lashed out when I was feeling deeply , sharing you thought what we had was nothing, you kicked a man I thought you cared about when he was down.”

“And you’re old enough to know you never tell a woman you just kissed, and kissed thoroughly , Jameson Oakley, that the kiss you shared was a mistake.”

Yet again, his eyes flashed. “My words were lamentably unguarded, but also unintentional when I hurt you by saying that. Can you claim the same?”

“Absolutely,” I spat.

He glowered at me.

I glared at him.

His head shot around to look out the windows.

It was then I heard the hushed rumble of the yacht’s engines.

They weren’t just starting up. In the intensity of our conversation, we’d missed their engagement.

They were working.

Thus, when I glanced to the side, I saw we were moving.

I felt my brows knit in confusion.

“What on earth?” I murmured.

Had everyone arrived?

And if they had, why had no one joined us in the lounge?

Jamie slammed his glass down on the bar and prowled to and out the open door to the deck.

Hurrying, I followed him.

He was at the starboard side where I stopped next to him and stared in total incredulity at Chloe, Cadence and Dru standing down on the dock, waving up at us (though, again, Chloe wasn’t waving, she had one hand to her baby bump, and a smug look on her face).

There was a mild, panicked squeak to my words when I asked, “What’s happening?”

Slowly, Jamie turned my way.

I looked up at him.

He stared down at me.

And then he spoke.

“It looks, sweetheart, like we’ve been parent trapped.”

Oh. My.

Lord .

It hit me like a rocket.

Chloe .

That little minx .

This was…

It was…

Unconscionable .

When Jamie managed to talk the captain into turning us right back around, I was going to find her.

And then I was going to throttle her .

Metaphorically, of course.

But make no mistake, I was going to do it.

Meticulously.